Hell Has Its Own Stories
by yamimitsukai
Summary: Crowley has lived a long life. Three hundred and fifty-one years of history he's had to live through and make. He lived a small life alive in the seventeenth century and ended up the King of Hell. Drabbles and stories about all about the fascinating demon. 31. There are some secrets that just need to be said.
1. War and Dreams

_**Some drabbles involving Crowley that were inspired by one worded prompts on Tumblr. So I decided to post them here. **_

War and Dreams

Crowley dreamt sometimes. Very rarely for it was odd for him to sleep in the first place. When he did dream on those rare nights that he slept, it was of memories. Memories of fire burning down London in 1666 when he was just four years old and his aunt's home burned down. Of the raids from the English to the Scottish people when his family moved back to Scotland.

But mostly he dreams about the wars he's seen come pass after he died and became a demon. World War I and how it engulfed the world in chaos and misery, people making deals to keep loved ones safe left and right, others making deals to gain monetary gain in the depression that followed after.

Even after the crisis was over, the humans started another world war, barely thirty years later. It was at times like this that Crowley shared Lucifer's hatred of humanity.


	2. Shadows

_**Some drabbles involving Crowley that were inspired by one worded prompts on Tumblr. So I decided to post them here. **_

**Shadows**

The one ability Crowley adored even as a human, was blending into the shadows to the point where he wouldn't exist. It helped when his father had had too much to drink when he was just a child, and it helped him when those robbers had broken into his home while his parents were away.

As a demon, it was even more useful. Those that wished to hurt him down in hell, could never find him. Hell wasn't all brimstone and fire; it was dark and colder the further down one went. The shadows had become his sanctuary, his place of safety

Now, hiding in the shadows proved to be even more useful as he was able to listen on conversations that would have been hidden from him. As he grew in strength, he could leave little parts of himself in select locations so his information grew.

"That's me, spymaster Crowley." Crowley laughed as he discreetly followed the Winchesters on their new mission.


	3. Nightmares

Some drabbles involving Crowley that were inspired by one worded prompts on Tumblr. So I decided to post them here.

**Nightmares**

Crowley would like to say that he didn't get nightmares. _He was a demon, he gave the nightmares to mortals_.

But that would be a lie. Memories from being on the rack, from his human life haunted his sleep.

And lately, nightmares involving the Morningstar, Lucifer began tormenting him when Crowley decided to sleep for a few hours. He wasn't a courageous man, demon. He shied away from pain as much as possible and would rather run than stand up.

And now, for his one stupid act of helping the Winchesters, he knew he would be a dead demon soon, if the Fallen Angel turned Devil had anything to say about it. Before, it was death as a general principle because Lucifer loathed humans and by extension demons. Now, it would be personal.

Lucifer hated traitors in his midst.


	4. Empty

Some drabbles involving Crowley that were inspired by one worded prompts on Tumblr. So I decided to post them here.

**Empty**

Fergus McLeod had only felt empty and hollow once in his life; the moment that his wife was murdered and the days that followed until his death. Nothing mattered to him anymore, his business, his son, his Deal, none of it had any importance. All that mattered was that his wife had been violently murdered and that he had a drink in his hands to keep the emotions away.

And when the hellhounds came for him not much later? He didn't bother to fight or to scream. Fergus McLeod just laughed and laughed and laughed. And he was reborn as Crowley countless of years later once the crazy laughter had changed to desperate screams and then finally fell silent.


	5. AU with Donna

Some drabbles involving Crowley that were inspired by one worded prompts on Tumblr. So I decided to post them here.

**AU with Donna Noble (Doctor Who)**

"Donna!" Crowley smashed his fist against the door to her flat. "Donna open up!"

It didn't take long for the sassy red head to make an appearance.

"Crowley, why are you banging on my door at-" she checked the clock on her wall. "four in the bloody morning?" Crowley grinned.

"Doctor and Master are back." Donna shrieked in excitement and went to grab her coat. Doctor and Master weren't their real names, Crowley got some names from Master when he was drunk once, something like Theta and Koschei.

Together, Crowley and Donna woke everyone by smashing on their doors and shouting ecstatically. Within minutes, their whole group had forced their way down the narrow staircase of their apartment building, just in time to see the blue car, nicknamed TARDIS, for some reason, pull into the parking lot. The two men had barely gotten out of the car before they were pulled into a group hug, questions about their freaking long road trip being yelled all around.

Donna and Crowley had grinned at each other before joining into the fray.

_**AU in which everyone lives on the same floor of an apartment building and are all extremely good friends. **_


	6. Leaving with Donna

Some drabbles involving Crowley that were inspired by one worded prompts on Tumblr. So I decided to post them here.

**I'm Leaving with Donna Noble (Doctor Who)**

**Leave me a "I'm leaving" and I'll write a drabble of my character's reaction to you leaving them.**

"I'm leaving!" Donna announced loudly, her voice echoing across the room. Crowley looked up from his book and nodded in agreement. "When will you be back, darling?"

"I'm not coming back, I'm leaving for good!"

"..Alright?"

"I'm serious!"

"Ok."

"Oh, come on! Any reaction at all?"

"Why would I have a reaction? We're good friends, yes, but we're not in a romantic relationship, nor are we living together."

"Can't you at least go along with it?"

"Are you drinking, Donna?"

"…..maybe."

"Give me some and I'll forget whatever it is you were saying."

Donna handed Crowley a bottle and the two proceeded to get drunk in the motel room the two of them were residing in for the day.


	7. Baby with Doctor

Some drabbles involving Crowley that were inspired by one worded prompts on Tumblr. So I decided to post them here.

_**Baby with the Doctor**_

Leave me a "Baby" and I'll write a drabble of my character telling you they're pregnant.

"Doctor!" Crowley had finally found the elusive alien after searching for him for hours. "Didn't you get my text messages or calls or anything?" As the Doctor studied him, Crowley remembered.

"Its me, Crowley! I has to switch meat suits, bodies, for a little while. But I need your help!"

"Yes, yes, of course, I'll help."

Crowley gave a sigh of relief and took a step back. "Well, the reason I'm in a woman's body right now is because the Master and I decided to hook up, have sex if you didn't get that, and now…." Crowley paused to take a breath of air and to look at the Doctor. He looked a little green.

"And now I'm pregnant in this body, Doctor!" The Time Lord froze. "And Master wanted you to be the godfather, you know. But I don't want to have a child, nor do I want to be stuck in this body for nine months….." Crowley noticed that the Doctor wasn't responding. He/she waved her hand in front of his face; he didn't even blink.

Crowley grinned and pulled out his phone. "Master? Yeah, I told you it would work. I think I broke him, by the way. You coming to pick him up, darling?" Crowley hung up and walked away from the still catatonic Doctor. He loved pulling pranks.


	8. Breathlessness

Some drabbles involving Crowley that were inspired by one worded prompts on Tumblr. So I decided to post them here.

_**Breathless**_

Crowley had never felt breathlessness in his life. Not when he was alive, and most definitely not during the three hundred plus years he had been a demon. But when Dean had shot Lucifer point blank in the head with the Colt and it hadn't worked, Crowley felt air leave his lungs.

He had been standing in the shadows, far from anyone else, but still close enough to view what was happening. If Lucifer was going down, he wanted to be the first to know about it. But the Colt, the gun was supposed to kill every bloody thing had failed. Crowley tried to leave straight after, but something was tying him down, making it impossible for him to move from his spot. He slowly lifted his head and saw bloodthirsty, powerful, terrifying blue eyes staring straight at him, the smirk on the Fallen Angel's face apparent even in the darkness and distance. Lucifer stared at him for several long seconds and then turned away and Crowley was free to move.

He immediately flew to who knew where and sat on the floor of some hut hyperventilating for an hour.

Dealing with fragging angels, the apocalypse, and two idiotic hunters would do that to anyone.


	9. Silence Doctor Who

Some drabbles involving Crowley that were inspired by one worded prompts on Tumblr. So I decided to post them here.

_**Silence (Doctor Who)**_

Crowley-Canton, now- was getting pissed off at the human shuffling through the papers in front of him. When he had decided to become human for a few years and work for the American government, he was not expecting to meet an actual alien with a time traveling police box fighting an enemy that he couldn't actually remember after seeing them. But he seemed to be remembering more about them as time went on. Crowley remembered that they called themselves the Silence, a bloody stupid name if you asked him, and that he shouldn't be able to remember them. The only thing he couldn't recall was how they looked like or when he had seen them.

But now Canton was standing over this mentally deranged man who was several years behind the time and had trouble remembering what he was doing. And Canton was getting frustrated. So when one of the Silence entered the room, he was grateful. Violence had never been a big problem of his, but it did help with stress.

Shooting the Silence felt wonderful, and he could have continued putting holes into the dammed creature while his inner-demon, really himself, cackled gleefully, but Amy was shouting for help. He glared at the fallen Silence, daring it to move before he got back and properly…interrogated it, as he ran out the door.

As he ran up the stairs, Crowley planned everything that he would do to the Silence. And the best part was, once he turned away, he would forget that he ever tortured the sodding wanker and could start all over again. He smirked in anticipation.


	10. Denial

Some drabbles involving Crowley that were inspired by one worded prompts on Tumblr. So I decided to post them here.

_**Denial**_

When Azazeal first told Crowley about the Plan to raise Lucifer, Crowley went into a nice self induced denial phase. Oh, sure he rose to be Lilith's right hand man, but that was all because of his current job than any eagerness to partake in what would be the End. Crowley liked living on Earth with his mansions and tailor and telly programmes. Hell was a place he avoided as much as possible, because the company sucked, and Heaven was probably worse considering they would obliterate him. And Crowley liked living too much.

So when the Devil's Gate opened in Wyoming, Crowley just hoped that the next phase of the plan would go and die just as Azazeal managed to do. He was still in denial that the Plan would work; it was just too specific and outlandish to completely work, and two humans were the pivot point to whole thing. Then he received word that the Righteous Man had indeed sold his soul to Hell. And Crowley drank himself into a stupor that lasted a week.

And then Bella Tablot landed the Colt in his lap, literally. Crowley felt the last strings of denial snap and the formations of a plan beginning to take place in his mind.

_((God, this was hard. I really don't think Crowley would be in denial of anything, he'd be too busy planning plans in case anything happened…..))_


	11. Lost and Found

Some drabbles involving Crowley that were inspired by one worded prompts on Tumblr. So I decided to post them here.

_**Lost and Found**_

"Bollocks!" Crowley cursed as he rummaged through the mess left behind of his house. He had waited several days after the demons burned down his house before deciding to scavenge the wreckage to see if anything had survived the fire.

He had hoped one item would be spared, considering it was concealed in a heavy duty safe that should have protected it from the flames, but he had no such luck in locating it yet.

"Bloody buggering demon sods." he muttered as he continued shifting through the ashes. He couldn't loose it! He had had it for centuries, finding it once he managed to get back up on the surface for the first time. Desperation hounded him as he increased his frenzied search.

"Come on, come on." He whispered angrily. "SHIT!"

His hands grasped onto something metallic and he sighed in relief. Quickly opening the slightly browned safe, Crowley grabbed the item that lay within. A simple looking pendant hung from his hands and he quickly put it in his pocket before leaving.

The pendant had belonged to his late wife, and it was only by luck that he had even located it in the first place. His wife had never taken it off, until the day she died, when a few muggers decided it could be worth a penny or two. Now Crowley kept it safe. But it was clear that it was never going to leave his pocket anytime in the near future.

**((I hate the ending. But I can't change it anymore…..writing is so hard right now…)) **


	12. Excuses

Some drabbles involving Crowley that were inspired by one worded prompts on Tumblr. So I decided to post them here.

_**Excuses**_

Crowley had no need for excuses. Business was business and if something failed, then it was someone's fault. End of story, no questions asked, no other discussion required. So when one of his boys began making up shitty excuses as to why his soul collection was extremely low (almost none at all), Crowley sent him over to Dean and Sam Winchester. They could always be counted on to do his dirty work for him. It certainly wasn't his fault if some rookie hothead Crossroads demon decided, in a moment of stupidity, to pay a visit to the Winchesters.

It was bad for business, after all, if the employer had to personally deal with the moronic employees.

**((I feel like this sucks….oh well, enjoy!)) **


	13. Haunt Me with Sally Donavan

Some drabbles involving Crowley that were inspired by one worded prompts on Tumblr. So I decided to post them here.

_**Haunt Me with Sally Donavan (Sherlock) **_

It wasn't that Crowley was stalking Sally Donavan, he was just continually watching over her and that moron Anderson because they usually managed to land with the cases that had the scent of supernatural creatures all over. And it was amusing how the they could never properly close a case because they lacked the knowledge and tools to do so.

Since Crowley had nothing else better to do, he helped a little here and there. Not a lot, mind, just more of a nudge in the right direction. It was a win-win situation for him. The demons that he loathed got ganked, and he had something productive to do. It was a simple arrangement.

But then one of their cases went south. As in a demon was waiting to ambush the investigation team and they were wholly unprepared for it. It didn't take long for the entire team to either die or fall unconscious in the abandoned warehouse where the demon stayed.

Crowley flew in silently landed less then a few feet from the demon who was getting ready to carve runes into Sally's body for some ritual.

"Now, love. Do you really want to be doing that?" The demon whirled around, fists readying into a fighting position. Crowley tsked and placed his hand softly on the demon's face.

"Hastur, isn't it? You've been gaining attention to yourself, boy. Not good attention, I'm afraid."

"C-Crowley." The demon whispered. Crowley smirked as he noticed the tendrils of fear flighting across the other demon's face.

"Hello, darling." Crowley's smirk widened as he used his telekinesis to kill the demon within a second. He reveled in the shock that graced the demon's expression.

Crowley looked around the room and estimated that more than half of the team was still alive. Pulling out his cellphone, he made a call to the hospital about the injured people before vanishing.

He may not like the majority of humans, but Sally Donavan had gotten his respect for persistently working on solving murders while knowing for every one she solved, there were three more or so that no one caught.

So he would continuing watching over her and her team. It was mostly for the boredom though.

**((Here you are! This was a strange one, I'm not sure I enjoy the last bit.)) **


	14. Comfort with Donna Noble

Some drabbles involving Crowley that are inspired by one worded prompts on Tumblr. So I decided to post them here.

_**Comfort with Donna Noble (Doctor Who) **_

**((Oh god, this may be hard. Crowley hugging someone?))**

When Donna didn't answer her phone he sixth time Crowley called, he went to go look for her. It had been three days since he last heard from Donna, and these were dangerous times they were all living in.

Crowley ended up in front of Donna's house and walked to knock on the door. To his surprise, the door wasn't locked. Cautiously, Crowley silently stepped into the house. The lights were all off except for a light shinning out from a doorway near the back of the house. Crowley quickly walked towards it, the sounds of someone weeping becoming louder as he came closer.

"Donna?" He called by the entrance of the door. He heard the sound of someone gasping and of cloth being hurriedly wiped across skin. "Come in." a hoarse voice finally responded. Crowley sauntered into the room and saw Donna sitting against the headboard of her bed, her knees curled up to her chest. "Lo, Crowley" she half sniffed. Crowley sat on the edge of the bed.

"Did something happen, darling?"

"No-yes. My grandpa died recently." New tears tracked down her face. Ah, the death of a loved relative. Crowley was unsure at how to comfort Donna, friendly emotions were definitely not his forte, so he tried to think of the various films and shows that he sometimes watched on his telly. What was it that the characters sometimes did to comfort one another? Oh, yes. That.

Hesitantly, Crowley scooted closer to Donna and pulled her into a loose hug.

"There, there, dear. It'll be alright."

"I know that! But I just miss him and such." Donna sobbed into his shoulder.

"Well, would he have wanted you to be crying for three days?" Crowley patted her back. "I've never met the bloke, but I'm sure he would want you to be happy."

It only took a few minutes for Donna's tears to dry up.

"Thanks, Crowls." She managed a smile as she wiped her eyes. He shuddered.

"One, please don't ever call me that agin. It sounds so bleh. Two, get washed up; we're heading out. I need to get some new shoes and you're going to help me pick them out."

"Shoes?" Donna visibly perked up. Within a minute she had rushed from the bed and into what Crowley assumed was the bathroom, by the sounds of a shower being turned on.

It was barely a half hour later that the two of them found themselves in downtown London, walking around and peering into shops that fancied their interest.

**((I have no idea what this is! Dammit Crowley, why are you so hard to write in being nice drabbles?)) **


	15. Befriending Me with Donna Noble

Some drabbles involving Crowley that are inspired by one worded prompts on Tumblr. So I decided to post them here.

_**Befriending Me with Donna Noble (Doctor Who) **_

The first time Crowley met Donna, it had been a complete accident. They had just bumped into one another down in London, apologized and went their separate ways.

They met again barely an hour later, walking around the same shop. Donna started a conversation and Crowley found himself enjoying her sassiness to the stories she was exaggerating.

After leaving the shop, he discovered that she was walking in the same direction as he was and so they proceeded to continue talking as they walked.

It would have been nice if that was only how their second meeting went. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case. Not to say how the rest of the day went was bad or anything, just not relaxing. Out of nowhere, a dalek (which Crowley first thought was a moving trashcans with lights) shot out of an alleyway shouting "exterminate" of all phrases.

Donna grabbed his hand and began to run away from the alien. Crowley at the same time tried to blow it up. Partially melted but very furious, the dalek flew on towards him. The sassy red head started asking (shouting) what was he and what planet was he from. Needless to say there was much screaming going around from all three of them. It wasn't until Crowley finally managed to pull his hand away from Donna and blast the sodding trashcan to hell and back that the noise level finally went down.

Once proper introductions were made, "Lo, I'm Donna, I used to be a time traveler with a man called the Doctor.", "Crowley, I'm a demon who is the King of Hell. I know the Doctor."; the two exchanged cell numbers. Then they decided to head to the nearest bar to grab a pint and share more stories with each other.

**((I'm uncertain as to how I feel about this. I like it, but then it seems weird. Hmm….)) **


	16. Endings

Some drabbles involving Crowley that are inspired by one worded prompts on Tumblr. So I decided to post them here.

**Endings**:

There were many times when Crowley thought his existence would be completely obliterated. Boom, kaput, no more Crowley, in Hell or on Earth.

The first was when the Hellhounds came for him. Contrary to popular belief in the underworld, Crowley did not go to Hell making plans about how he would claw his way up to the top of the social ladder. He didn't actually believe that demons really existed. So it was a bit of a shock for him and when he found himself in Hell instead of just being dead.

The second time was when he managed to piss off a high ranking demon when he was still relatively new in Hell. He had barely made it out of that fight alive, and it was only through luck that he had. Luckily, his win meant that other demons figured he was stronger than most, and so left him alone for a while.

The third was when he first went against Lucifer's little agenda. Azazel had managed to contact Lucifer in his cage (he did it every few years, actually) and Lucifer had ordered a wide scale massacre of Jerusalem. Crowley had gone faster than every other demon heading over and managed to persuade the citizens to paint a giant Devil's Trap on the streets and salt every entrance into the city. When the rest of the hoard arrived, everyone entered the city and became powerless. At that point, it was humans killing de-powered demons and the humans had been warned and prepared themselves. Crowley laid low for months after hoping no one would find out, his nightmares preparing him for the reality that would happen if anyone found out he had helped humans.

So Crowley spent most of his time plotting ways to stop major massacres of humans and crawling his way up to a position of power. He was smart, and most demons were mostly concerned with destroying the next being they met. It wasn't difficult. Tricky at times, yes. But not impossible.

The next time Crowley thought he wouldn't see another day was when Castiel turned against him when opening purgatory. The kid had become a wild card and was more human than angel. If it wasn't for the fact that Crowley had a partnership with the wanker, he was sure that Cas would have smitted him on the spot with no warning.

Angels. Never could trust them.

But that was months ago. Now, Crowley was absolutely sure he wouldn't be seeing another dawn. He stared down the barrel of the gun that was pointing at his head and smirked.

Sodding hell if he was going to give the bastards the satisfaction of seeing him care about his own life. He had helped humanity enough now, he was done. Almost four centuries of life was a good lifespan. It was-

BANG


	17. Game

Some drabbles involving Crowley that are inspired by one worded prompts on Tumblr. So I decided to post them here.

**Game:**

Life was just one big cosmos joke, Crowley had decided. God was this ambiguous Dealer who made sure most people had shitty hands and gave a half good deck to others. The problem was, no one knew what with the cards were, or that they even had cards. Dice were also probably involved, but Crowley wasn't absolutely sure about that. But cards were definitely there.

He sat on the armchair in his new house, drinking a glass of aged fine wine and pondering. Castiel had been by earlier, completely plastered, and complaining about how God was a righteous bastard. Typically, Crowley agreed with that sentiment; he was a demon.

But if God really wasn't paying attention, then why had Castiel been brought back? Crowley had hidden himself in Stull Cemetery to watch the final game be played. The being who was now passed out on his couch had exploded, courtesy of his older brother, but was then brought back.

And Crowley wondered. Wondered if God really wasn't paying attention as everyone seemed to think. And why He seemed to favor Castiel over every other single angel who had perished in this stupid apocalypse business.

The only conclusion Crowley could come up with was that God was pulling random cards from the Deck, and Castiel had received a decent hand. He was important to God the way no one else was. Hell, the Moose had willingly jumped into a cage with two prissy archangels and was still half trapped inside! If Cas had the power to drag his body out, then God should most definitely be able to grab the Moose out completely. But he didn't.

Crowley snorted and downed his glass. God was a sucky Dealer. He knew that. His stupid game was either too complex or too simple for humans to understand, but the point was that no one would figure it out because He was a jackass.

Crowley stood from comfortable position on the chair and went to place his now empty glass in the sink. He would wash it tomorrow. On his way back into the living room, he grabbed a blanket and lay it on the sleeping Cas. No need for the bloody angel to catch some human cold at this time.

Crowley didn't care about others. He just wanted the Dealer to quit handing out the cards to his stupid game that no one else understood. And if helping angels and hunters is what called for it, well that was the only reason why he would be seen hanging around them.


	18. Road Trip with Rose Tyler

**Some drabbles involving Crowley that are inspired by one worded prompts on Tumblr. So I decided to post them here.**

_**Road Trip**_

"Rose, I don't understand why we are driving all the way to Scotland, when I could just as easily fly as there." Crowley crossed his arms in the passenger seat of the car Rose was driving.

"Because, I want to see where you grew up, and you'll most likely fly somewhere else and lie." Crowley cursed under his breath. Trust Rose to figure him out so well.

"Do we really have to go?" He nearly whined. Rose nodded. The rest of the trip was made in silence, with Crowley trapped with a ring of salt around the seat to keep him from flying out of the car. The beautiful scenery passing them by did nothing to soothe Crowley's growing temper. Rose smartly stayed silent.

It was several hours of tense silence later that they finally reached Crowley's old city. Crowley stubbornly refused to get out of the car, leaving Rose to explore the area on her own. Ignoring the feeling of salt burning through his shoes, Crowley rubbed a part of the salt circle apart. As Rose headed back to the car less than a hour later, Crowley glared at her and vanished back to his flat in London.

She could get back on her own just fine. He collected all of the bottles of alcohol he could carry into his living room and proceeded to get absolutely smashed to drown the memories that started surfacing.

He didn't want to remember his past as a human; Crowley couldn't figure out why he was one of the few demons who still could.


	19. Locked in a Room with Dean

_**After two days of spotty writing, staying up past 4AM on one of those days trying to finish, I now present to you, the monster of piece that was supposed to be a drabble. Its definitely not a drabble. Be warned, there are quite a few naughty mouths. Very naughty, is what it should have been…**_

_**And I suppose I should add a disclaimer here: I do not own. Yay.**_

* * *

Prompt: **Writing prompt! Refresh your dash and then write about how Crowley is locked in a room for an hour with the first person on your dash. No cheating.**

**- Ended up being Dean**

* * *

Crowley had received a call a few minutes ago, to come to a abandoned warehouse in somewhere-in-the-middle-of-nowhere Texas. He reluctantly went inside and found himself wandering the vast space of the warehouse, wondering what it was the caller wanted him to do here. After making a circle, he snorted and tried to fly out.

Crowley frowned as he couldn't teleport. He swore under his breath and walked over the door; as expected it was locked from the outside. "Bollocks!"

A loud yell interrupted his stream of cursing and he turned to find Dean Winchester standing in the middle of the room, yelling at nothing.

"You piece of shit, when I figure out who did this, your ass is toast, you hear me? BLACKENED FRIED TOAST!"

Crowley coughed lightly and Dean whirled around, fists flying up into an aggressive stance.

"Crowley, what do you want, you asshole?" He growled. Crowley just raised an eyebrow.

"Me? I don't want anything. I-"

"Then why the fuck did you bring me here?" Dean took a step forward, face falling into a deeper scowl.

"I didn't, you sodding piece of shit!" Crowley snapped back. "Why would I want to willingly spend any time with an arse like you?" He gestured to the door, angrily. "We're locked in, and I can't leave, so I suggest you start being nice before I rip you apart and your spread your limbs in all four corners of this bloody room!"

Dean blinked. "Alright, geez. Calm your freaky demon head off." Crowley smiled, toothily. "Calm? I am calm, Deano."

Dean shivered, and immediately attempted to hide it. "So, who brought you here? And why?" Crowley shrugged.

"Hell if I know. I got a phone call telling me to come here, so I did. And know we're lock-" at that moment, Crowley's phone beeped. He opened his phone and found a new text message waiting for him.

**[Text]: You two are trapped her together for an hour! Have fun, and try not to kill each other! There's lots of space and some blankets in a corner…..( ; **

Crowley's hand shook in anger, nearly crushing his phone. Oh, he had an inkling of who it was, now. A very strong inkling. He forced himself to calm down and carefully put his phone away. Focus on the phone, he had far too many contacts on his phone to loose it now.

"Any information you'll like to share, asshole?" Dean had moved and was now leaning against a wall. Crowley glared at the oldest Winchester, who responded with a glare of his own. Crowley's was better.

"An anonymous text saying we're stuck in here for an hour."

Dean's expression made everything better. Crowley laughed, his anger mostly contained after seeing the hunter's face scrunch up in shock and horror.

"St-stuck with you?" He spluttered, his face turning slightly red from anger.

"Oh Deany, no need to hurt my feelings. I won't bite you. Much."

"You fucke-" Dean pulled out the demon-killing knife from his jacket. "By the time this hour is done, no one is going to recognize you down in Hell!" he hissed. Crowley raised his hands in the universal 'I surrender sign'.

"Cool down, tiger. I was _joking_. You do know what that is, right?" Crowley rolled his eyes. "Look, we're stuck here for a measly hour. You can contain your bloody homicidal urge for that long, can't you?" Dean gritted his lips and reluctantly put away the knife, folding his arms across his chest.

"You want to have a truce, Crowley?"

"And why not? I've done nothing but help you boys, since the first day you saw me. I gave up everything to aid in your little quest of cleaning up your mess. I don't see why you're antagonistic towards me."

"Because you're a demon, you jackass! And its been proven that demons don't keep their word!"

"I always keep my word! Its part of my job description, you moron!"

Dean snarled. "Yeah? Then where's Bobby's soul, you lying piece of shit?" Crowley smirked. So this is what it was all about.

"Robert will get his soul back, don't worry. Before he dies, obviously."

"And what's wrong with now?" Dean's hands were tightening into fists by his side.

"I can't do now. Ask me again in a little while." Crowley sighed and looked at his watch. Fifty-five minutes to go. The little wanker was going to make this hour seem like the longest hour known to man wasn't he? The years he had spent on the rack already seemed like a shorter time!

"Why. Not. Now?" Dean was spitting his words out, pulling out the knife again and walking closer to Crowley.

"Do you know what souls are, Winchester? They're power, energy, its like a nuclear reactor for those who know how to use it." Crowley pulled his lips back in a mocking grin. "And I'll be using Robert's soul until I don't need to anymore."

Dean growled and grabbed Crowley by his jacket, slamming him into a wall. "Give Bobby his soul, now. Or I swear I'll knife you right here."

Crowley laughed and used his hands to grab Dean's, forcing him to let go. "Let's get one thing straight, Winchester. You kill me, your precious Bobby never gets his soul back. The contract would be broken on my end and his soul will end up in Hell in ten years. " Crowley side stepped Dean and dusted off his suit jacket. "Robert will get his soul back, don't you worry. Next time you decide to make a deal with the devil, be more specific." Crowley walked to the other side of the warehouse and sat down. No reason to get caught unawares by Dean's temper.

Time passed in silence from the demon and the hunter. Crowley looked at his phone again and saw that only thirty minutes remained in their captivity. It had felt like a week.

"Oi, Deanie-baby! You don't happen to have anything interesting with you, do you?" Dean glared back at him.

"I still have my knife, that I'm itching to throw at you."

"I thought we were over the whole trying to kill me deal, Deano."

"It's just been put on hold." Dean replied coldly from his corner. Crowley rolled his eyes.

"You're so harsh to me, Dean. Seriously, this bad boy attitude of yours is getting rather old."

"Yeah, well hand over Bobby's soul and see how bad I get, you ass."

"And why would I hand over the one leverage I have against you boys? Why do you think I'm still alive after all this time when everyone else who crosses you is either dead or caged? I don't underestimate you scoobies. You might figure out a way to get dear Robert's soul back on your own, but until that happens, I'm keeping the one safe card I have in keeping myself safe from you BABOONS!"

Dean just looked murderous. Crowley nearly threw his hands up in exasperation. "You boys are certainly dimwitted, aren't you? You assume all demons are out to kill you or everyone around you. I hate to break it to you, mate; but not all of us are like that!"

"Yeah? Give me some good examples! Sam thought Ruby was helping him, and looked where that ended up! Fucking Armageddon!"

"Ruby was a power hungry bitch, even when she was alive. Demon boy King Sam Winchester, remember that title? What sort of person who is chasing after power wouldn't go after him? And what about Cassy?"

"Cassy?"

Crowley gave a hollow laugh. "Aren't you something, Winchester? A demon pledges allegiance to your brother and of course you'd forget about her. A demon tries to kill you, you remember every single one of their names. Classy." Dean remained silent, a stubborn set in his jaw.

"Didn't believe her, did you? Thought she was just a lying, manipulative demon, right? Want to know a secret? Lilith had a lot of fun with her. Or what's left of her, anyway."

"What are you playing at, Crowley?" Dean was stiff, his posture absolutely straight and tense.

"I'm imparting a bit of wisdom on you, you fucktard. Quit classifying us in one category. Yes, most of the demons went to follow Lucifer, but the rest want nothing to do with him. I personally helped your lot, in case you forgot, at great risk to myself."

"Lucifer was going to blow your brains out, anyways. Isn't that what you said? I'm almost sorry he's still not out to do so!" Crowley's eyes flashed in anger.

"Is that what you said to your angel, Castiel? Oh, the rest of your species have only been trying to destroy the world by starting an apocalypse using me and my brother which ultimately will kill us in the end, because they have a skewed version of Paradise, so you can't help us without me or Sammy here threatening you every ten seconds!"

Crowley was breathing heavily after his rant, his anger coming back in full force. He had given up everything for the damm Winchesters; yes it was primarily for his own interests, but he could have just as easily made it ten times harder for them and not bother with meeting them at all. He could have been living in house comfortable house, with his tailor at hand and multiple bottles of craig all at his disposal. Instead, he was forced to reside in a hovel, far away from the comforts of a city because every sodding demon had been after his hide. And the brats had to gall to not even _thank_ him for anything.

As Dean stood there in shock, Crowley opened his phone again to check the time. Five minutes had passed. Bloody hell, time was going extra slow just to piss him off!

It took another agonizing slow three minutes before Dean responded.

"Look, I-uh, I don't like thinking that demons can be good. Its not natural. But for its worth, I suppose, I'm sorry about Cassy and uh, thanks. I guess, for your help." he stuttered out. Crowley didn't think he had heard anything anymore amusing in his life.

"First rule to survive in Hell, Winchester. You have no friends, only associates. I don't care that Cassy got herself killed; it just means she wasn't smart enough to stay alive." He held up his hand and lifted two fingers.

"Two, learn not to see in black and white. Its rather degrading and you will get innocent people killed that way. Not that I care, but it is rather tiring having to listen to you and the Moose whine about god knows what and how it was all a demon's fault. In case you didn't notice, the angels don't exactly have your best interests at heart, now do they?"

Dean opened his mouth to argue but Crowley spoke over him.

"Even Castiel helped bring the apocalypse along, didn't he? And you forgave him pretty quick for that didn't you? Must have been those big blue eyes."

"Cas died for us!"

"And what? Others didn't?"

"No, you know what. I'm done talking about this. I don't need to talk to you about my actions."

"You do if they involve trying to kill me!"

"Well then I won't try to kill you, jackass!" Crowley refrained from smirking and held out his hand with a serious face.

"Shake on it." Dean was obviously not thinking straight or was much too angry to properly think. He didn't even hesitate to grab Crowley's hand.

"Thanks very much, darling." Crowley drawled, once the tingle of power that signified a deal being made had passed. "Its a deal."

"Wha-"

"You can't honestly think that kissing was the only way demons could make a deal? Don't worry, your soul is safe."

"You utter bastard! You lying, conniving son of a bitch!"

"Language, Deano. I didn't lie; I simply maneuvered you into a position beneficial to me. The deal is simple. You don't kill me and I don't pry about your actions or feelings. Basically, no chick-flick moments for you from me."

"Then you don't need-"

Crowley broke into Dean's tirade before it could get started. "Robert's soul for insurance. No, you're right I don't really. There's always the problem of the Moose, but you can take care of him for me. But I won't give it up just yet. I still need it, as I already said. So you and Robert can wait a few more bloody days!"

Dean was seething, but remained quiet. Crowley checked the time. "Oh, look fifteen minutes of this sodding long hour left. What shall we talk about?"

"Ways I'm going to torture you, slowly and painfully." Dean hissed.

"Well, you don't want to be boring and use the same old tricks Alastair did? Please, medieval tools are completely last century. You have more imagination in the twenty-first century! And electricity."

"What the fuck does electricity have to do with anything?"

"You are _supposed_ to be more creative than people born in the seventeenth century. What about hooking demons up to electricity and then pouring Holy Water on them. Sting from the water plus boom of the water hitting electricity?" Dean stared with his mouth agape in shock. A demon, giving a human, who had gone to hell and tortured other future demons, torture tips?

"You are invited to join in the conversation, Deanie Bear. For fuck's sake, it would make the time fly by a bit faster than it already is."

"What….. about coating the electric wires in salt and digging the wire into the skin?"

"Oh, cut them open a bit and force a part of the wire into the body….I like that."

It was a bit more than fifteen minutes later when a sound of wings interrupted their talk, and the demon and hunter turned to see Castiel standing in front of them, more ruffled than usual and looking desperately (in Crowley's opinion) at Dean.

"Dean….I have been looking everywhere for you. What did Crowley do?" Crowley was just about to defend himself when Dean stepped in.

"He got stuck in here, same as me. You find who did it?" Castiel glared at Crowley for good measure and turned back to Dean.

"No. You just vanished from the motel and I was unable to sense you until a minute ago. It is troubling." Crowley snorted.

"Well don't let me keep you lovebirds apart. I'm gone." He was thrilled when he was able to fly out of the warehouse and he immediately went to his new flat. Crowley wasn't surprised to find his kitchen light on.

"Did you really have to trap me with the Winchester." He grumbled to the figure busy eating a fruity chocolate cake with extra sprinkles on his counter.

"Crowls! You're back! How was your date?"

"You are a bloody moron, you know that? Nothing wrong in coming back to life in a mysterious fashion after the threat is over you know."

"But I don't want to…" He whined. "I like being able to hide out in your house, Crowls!"

Crowley rolled his eyes.

"I refuse to believe that you were ever an archangel, Gabriel. You are simply far too childish." Gabriel stuck his tongue out in response and took a large bite of his cake. "You never told me how your date went!"

"Gabriel…for the last bloody time….I do not, nor ever, have a crush on Dean. He's practically married to Castiel already. And it was terrible. You are a terrible friend."

Gabriel just grinned wider, more plots and plans running through his devious mind.

* * *

_***dead* Here's what a get by asking for a prompt from Tessa...Would you believe me if I said that this was originally going to be crack and not this angsty "let's talk about feelings" thing? **_

_**Yeah, I hardley believe it now, either. **_

_**Mind telling me if you liked it? It would boost my author ego. :) **_


	20. Amnesia

**And its back to normal drabbles! Anyways, this one isn't much of a drabble as it was a starter to an rp. In this, Crowley got amnesia and so I kind of ran away with that. **

**I really enjoy doing this mental case role-plays. **

**Amnesia **

He blinked. He was standing in the middle of some city with too many people, too many cars, just too much around him. The noises, smells, and colors assaulted him and he started pushing people out of the way to move faster before breaking into an all out run.

He didn't know where he was going, or even where he was. All he knew was that he had to keep moving. He couldn't stop. If he did, something…..would happen.

He couldn't remember! His hands gripped the side of his head as he slowed down near some docks. Why couldn't he think of it?

He sank to the ground as a black chasm made itself known in his head. His home, his life, his name….He couldn't remember a single one of these supposed basic facts.

He started hyperventilating.

_Who was he_?


	21. Amuse Me with Sam

**Wow, its been a while. I haven't done a lot of drabbles recently, have I? Anyways, this one is pretty long for your enjoyment. **

**Amuse me with Sam Winchester **

**Leave a "****Amuse Me****" in my ask, and I will write a funny drabble about my character trying to cheer your up.  
**

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Sam was sitting sullenly outside of the door of the motel room he and Dean were currently staying at. Dean had just gone to say yes to freaking Michael in the Impala, leaving him behind with tears dropping steadily down his cheeks and worry for his older brother clenching at his heart. It didn't matter than the temperature was starting to drop, and that he was starting to freeze. Dean was gone. Dean was leaving him behind again, to clean up the mess that he had started. This entire thing was his fault. If only Dean hadn't brought him back after Jake had stabbed him, then none of this would have been possible.

"What's got you, Moose?" A British accent interrupted his melancholy. Sam looked up to see the one demon helping them, Crowley standing right next to him. He quickly wiped his eyes, not wanting a demon to see any weakness. Even if he was helping them, Sam had learned his lesson with Ruby; never trust a demon. They always turn on you in the end. Dean had been right. Sam nearly choked up again at the thought of Dean.

"Ah, your dick of a brother, is that it?" Crowley pulled out a cigarette and lit it. He took a long drag. "Want a fag to calm down, Sammy?" Sam shook his head, anger at Crowley for being here when he wanted Dean, at Dean for being so stupid, Cas just because and of course himself, for being such a failure in life.

"Shut the hell up." he hissed, standing up and towering over Crowley and his meat suit. "You have no idea what we're going through and you have the gall to just show up here like this!" Crowley was impassive, and just blew a bit of smoke into Sam's face. He struggled not to cough.

"First off, Moose, don't assume you know me better than I know myself. I've had several more centuries than you, so I suggest you keep your trap shut about what I understand and don't, got it?" Crowley's voice and expression remained calm, but that sent shivers down Sam's spine. "Secondly, quit being a mopey Mary and go do something fun or whatever. It's depressing me being this close to you while you radiate misery."

Sam stood in silence. What? Crowley telling him to have fun? He wasn't sure what was stranger; the fact that Crowley hadn't blown his top yet, or that he was telling him to party.

"Are you trying to get me to abandon Dean, you bastard?" He growled. Crowley just rolled his eyes.

"You Winchesters and you're issues. Honestly, you could write entire encyclopedias on how screwed up you both are. You can't live without Dean, and he can't live without you. Just sodding marry each other already!" Sam couldn't help it. He started laughing desperately.

"You're a real riot, you know that? Besides, Dean's gone to off himself by saying yes to Michael. Its too late."

"And here you are still being all disgustingly sad even after I came all this way." Crowley scoffed. "The only way the world's going to end, is if both you and Dean decide to be little pussies and say yes. So either man up and become an independent person and let your brother do whatever the fuck he wants to or go after him and drag his little ass to bed. Your choice, Winchester."

"Are, are you trying to _cheer_ me up?" Sam felt sick. A demon was trying to cheer him up. His life was so screwed up.

"Is it working?"

"Not really."

"Then I'm not. Now get out of this dingy motel and go something entertaining. Like getting drunk or hot wiring a car or whatever it is you boys do."

Sam was already gone, running down into the parking lot towards a car that was parked near the back, mentally calling for Cas as he did.

Crowley smirked from his position on the motel deck. Those boys were far too easy to manipulate, if anyone would bother asking him. He vanished in the next second, going someplace that no one else would know of.

Sam hot wired the car, lock picking the door open and expertly pulling out the correct wires for the car to start. He knew Dean's patterns and methods like the back of his own hand. Finding him before the angels, or more specifically, Zachariah did, couldn't be impossible. He tore out of the motel parking lot determination lining the small smile on his face.

Maybe Crowley wasn't so bad, after all. Just Crowley though.


	22. Fight Me

**Whoo! Two in one day! And its finally a Gabriel/Crowley thing! And I think it kind of sucks...but whatever. I'm too tired to care at the moment. **

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**Save Me: Crowley and Gabriel**

**Leave a "Fight Me" in my ask, and I will write a drabble out my character fighting with/or against yours.**

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The first time Crowley ran into Gabriel, or Loki as he was trying to convince people to call him, it wasn't at all an instant friendship being sprung up with exchanges of flower bracelets or numbers or whatever else that people did. Actually, it was more of an accident that the two had met at all. Crowley was still a relatively young demon, just starting out on the crossroads and he had literally run into Gabriel while taking a walk after his successful deal.

Long story short; Gabriel freaked, thinking a random demon was trying to hurt afake demigod and tried to smite him on the spot. Crowley was one of the first to realize what Gabriel was just because of a random occurrence. The first few years of their acquaintanceship, was Gabriel thinking that Crowley was going to blackmail him with the information. Crowley had threatened the Trickster with that, but he wasn't going to actually do it, seeing that he didn't want to, nor did he know of any other angels to tell.

So when Loki/Gabriel managed to get himself into a spot of trouble, involving an angry Odin, infuriated Baldur, and some pissed off demons, Crowley didn't really hesitate to step into the group fight against one archangel. On the said archangel's side of course. What was the fun of fighting with an entire group of beings he completely detested?

"What are you doing here, demon?" Gabriel had spat out, dodging a stray magical beam from Baldur.

"Decided to join in, what else?" Crowley set one of the demons on fire, satisfied expression on his face.

"Against your own kind? What is wrong with you?" Gabriel sounded bewildered.

Crowley was silent as the two finished off the last of the stragglers. There may have been more of them, but they were no match for a archangel who had a little help.

"I hate them." he finally said. "I hate all of the demons, they are all so stupid it stopped being funny years ago."

"Ah." Gabriel clearly had no idea what to say, a demon rejecting his very nature was something that had never been seen before. Crowley started walking away, the fun was over now and there was no reason for him to hang around.

"Catch you later, angel." Crowley gave a small wave and Gabriel snorted. "Hell no. You don't get to walk off on me now. We're getting drinks and candy." The Trickster grabbed his arm and started pulling him in the opposite direction.

"Oi! Let me go, I can walk without you dragging me everywhere!" Crowley protested.

That fight is what actually started their strange companionship over the years. With Gabriel popping up randomly and demanding to be entertained, or Crowley going over for someone to rant to. All in all, their relationship worked out well.

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**((This feels like utter crap. Sorry. I didn't know what to do with this.!))**


	23. Amuse, Drink, and Break with Elias

**So the prompts for this were:**

**Leave a "Amuse Me" in my ask, and I will write a funny drabble about my character trying to cheer your up.**

**Leave a "Break Me" in my ask, and I will write an angsty drabble about our characters.**

**And Drink Me. **

**So I mashed it all up together. **

**Head's up, in this, Elias is an OC RP character but I'm basing him off of Azriaphale from Good Omens. Actually this kind of is more of a Good Omens fanfiction with the characters I guess. But whatever. **

* * *

_Crowley stood on the edge of the field, with no umbrella in hand to protect him from the falling rain that was absolutely suited for this day. A few feet away from him, wings splayed out and burnt into the ground, lay Elias. His eyes were wide open, empty and unseeing, and a trickle of blood streaked his chin in almost an artistic way, running down the curve of his neck where bruises were visible. But worst of all was the giant hole in his chest, right where the heart and left lung would be, the blood from this would dyeing the ground beneath him a deep, dark and beautiful red. _

Crowley was walking with no destination in mind when he had run into Elias completely by accident. The demon remembered the angel from a few run ins before. Such as when he had been turned into an angel for a few hours by a magic anon. Elias had randomly appeared and attempted to cheer him up.

The angel himself looked down, so Crowley figured it was high time to return a debt.

"Elias, right?" He looked up to the angel, who looked haggard and worn and exhausted. "I would like repay a debt to you."

Now the angel looked curious. "Which debt?" His head tilted to the side, which Crowley had learned was the universal angel sign for confusion.

"You helped a while back. Let me take you out for drinks or something."

"But I'm not supposed to be seen associating myself with demons." Elias looked amused.

"Yeah?" Crowley raised an eyebrow. "And who's going to check? Come one. I know a nice place called the Ritz. They have decent food and drinks there." Elias sighed one more time but followed Crowley down the street into the nice looking restaurant.

The two had talked for hours, just sitting at the table and drinking wine once the food was finished. Crowley discovered that Elias may have been an angel, but he was vastly different from those other dicks that called themselves angels. Something he was immensely pleased about. How anyone could stand those twats, was a mystery to him. Crowley left Elias with his cell number, in case the angel decided to call me up for whatever reason. He never thought it would actually happen though.

At least once a week, the two would meet up and go out for drinks and talk about any new developments in their lives. Crowley could safely say that his relationship with Elias was a bit more than just mere acquaintances, but he didn't want to put a name to it for fear of it actually being true.

_"Elias! Why have you been hanging with this demon filth?" _

Then it all went wrong.

_"Brother. We just have a simple arrangement and exchange bits of information." _

Apparently, angels don't appreciate one of their own, even one who didn't associate himself much with his siblings, to convey with demons.

_"Don't think of this as something I particularly enjoy, Elias. But it has to be done." _

The angels had come in a group of ten, this attack had been planed ahead, while the demon and angel were simply walking together as they had done many times before hand to the Ritz. Crowley had pulled Elias out of the way of the first attack, feeling the air from the angel sword barely miss him.

"I did not sign up for this, Angel." He snarled as he ran into an alleyway. He wouldn't be able to do anything against the angels without some sort of weapon that would work on them. Elias was left to defend himself, which would be better as he would not have to worry about protecting Crowley as well. Even outnumbered, Elias proved to be strong enough to hold his own, managing to take down six of the angels, just knocking them unconscious, not having enough time to kill them.

Crowley just watched, unable to do anything, and the feeling of being useless clenched his throat. He _loathed_ being helpless.

"ANGEL!" Crowley didn't realize until a few seconds later that the scream had erupted from him. One of the remaining angels had grabbed Elias' neck with two hands, choking him as well as restraining him. Another of the angels came up in front of Elias and stabbed his sword clean through his heart. Crowley stared, as Elias tilted his head one last time in confusion, his eyes widening as the angel twisted the blade savagely and pulled it out, the other angel letting go of his neck and allowing Elias to fall and land brutally on the ground, his grace printing its final message into the ground.

Crowley had stayed in his hiding space until he was sure the angels had left, going out to stand by the prone body splayed across the field of the park they had been crossing.

He didn't know how long he had been standing there or when it started raining. Crowley just stood there, staring at Elias, the one being who had probably managed becoming the closest thing Crowley had to a friend in his existence, and plotted. His eyes were dark with thoughts of revenge, as he finally moved to gently close Elias unseeing eyes.

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**((How long did this take me? Three hours? More? I DON'T KNOW! I had so many ideas for this…but only a quarter of it managed to fit in. I hate it when that happens.)) **


	24. Shag Me with Dean

**((Oh you mother fucker. Why do you people do this to me? Let me get one thing straight. I can't write smut. I just can't. So here is my attempt at writing some romantic something or the other. I'm going to go cry in a corner now. **

* * *

**Prompt: Shag Me by Dean**

* * *

Crowley arrived in front of the motel that the WInchesters were supposedly staying at. He gotten a text from Dean, something that was a bit better than being summoned all the damm time. Seriously, getting summoned was rather annoying; he wondered who had given that calling card to them. It hadn't been him. He knocked on the door. No doubt the Winchesters had a Devil's Trap set up inside.

The door flew open and Crowley felt a hand grab his collar and yank him inside. He gasped when his back was roughly shoved up against the wall, narrowly missing the light.

"You asshole, what did you did you do to Cas?" A rough voice full of anger shouted by his ear. Crowley could feel spit flying onto his skin. Disgusting.

"At least talk like a normal human being, Winchester." Crowley said coldly, one of his hands moving to grip the arm holding him against the wall and squeezing. Dean growled, but let go, Crowley sliding a few inches to the floor. He looked around the motel room.

"Where's your moose?" Crowley swept off imaginary dust from the shoulders of his jacket. Dean's teeth grated against each other as he clenched his knuckles.

"I'm asking the questions, motherfucker. Where. Is. Cas?"

"You mean your pet angel who was supposed to be dead? I have no idea. But if he has managed to go off and kill himself, I won't be complaining." Crowley said with a scowl. Castiel's little betrayal trick still irritated him.

"He's gone missing from the hospital he was at, and the only person who would have known or cared enough to snatch him is you!" Dean spat, advancing towards Crowley so they were barely a few inches apart. "So give him back before I gank you right here and now, dickwad!"

"I don't have your little featherfaced angel, Deana Prima. So relax already. If that's all you wanted, then I'm going on my way."

Crowley wasn't sure if it was the nickname or the news that he didn't know where his precious Castiel was. Before he could move, Dean had snarled and thrown him to the other side of the room. Crowley looked up and saw a giant Devil's Trap painted on the ceiling. Figures.

Dean suddenly pounced on top of him and started punching his face, the Devil's Trap restricting his powers. Crowley moved his arms to cover his face; the punches didn't hurt too badly, but eventually they would. Unfortunately, Dean has been an hunter his entire life and as such, was plenty strong to leave lasting bruises on a meatsuit.

After several more punches, Crowley managed to grab hold of Dean's fists and the hunter immediately started fighting back against him, preparing to start using his feet. Crowley, in order to save his own skin, quickly pushed himself up and kissed Dean, in hopes to shock him enough to let go.

Dean froze for a moment, and Crowley tried to move, at least to the other side of his new home, but the elder Winchester suddenly moved to capture Crowley's lips, his eyes gleaming in rage and lust.

"Didn't realize you were so forward, Deanie." Crowley laughed, once he managed to separate himself.

"Shut up. Just shut the fuck up."

Hours later, Crowley lay on the floor, Dean finally passed out beside him, their clothes laying all over the floor. He got up and stepped on Dean to escape the circle, picking up his clothes as he moved. Within minutes, he was completely dressed and had left the room, leaving no trace of him ever being there.

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**((Are you happy, jerk? I did it! Somewhat, but shut up! HAH! Can someone please give me ice cream or something so I can drown in my sorrow of being an utter failure at writing?)) **


	25. Zip Me with Elias

**_Hi again everyone! More drabbles yay! This one was done with an OC angel, who really is just Aziraphale from Good Omens, only with a different name. As such, Crowley has the same relationship with him. MWAHAHAHAHA...I still think my headcannon about Crowley being a fallen angel is true. And I will continue to believe it!_**

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**Leave an "Zip Me" in my ask, and I'll write a drabble about your character dressing mine, or the other way around [****_this can also be used for shutting them up as well, but feel free to specify_****.] **

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Crowley burst into the place where Elias was staying. The angel peered up from the book that he had been reading.

"Angel, I am taking you shopping." Elias just stared blankly at Crowley for a little while longer, before looking back to his book. "That's nice, dear."

Crowley rolled his eyes, not at all surprised by the reaction. Elias was a monster went it came to shopping. And not in the 'go all the time and love shopping' sense. Oh no….it was the complete opposite. The 'I hate shopping so I'm going to pretend that it doesn't exist' type of monster.

"Its not that kind of shopping, Elias. I brought some clothes over, which you will like or else, and then I'm going to get rid of all the clothes that you don't need." Elias just waved a hand and went back to his book. Crowley grinned. Perfect.  
He bounded up to Elias room, and quickly sprang open the closet, hoping Elias wouldn't catch on before he was done with his job.

Quickly, Crowley pulled out a huge bag from inside his jacket and set it on the ground. He then ran into Elias' closet and pulled out all of the jumpers, 60's style, and just plain unfashionable clothes and dumped them in a pile on the floor. From his bag, he pulled out a few expensive looking suits, with some nice jackets, pants, shirts, the works, as well as several comfortable and still classy looking sweatshirts. There was no need for Elias to be wearing that completely out of style jacket anymore.

Crowley had almost finished putting everything unfashionable inside the bag when Elias barged into the room, red faced and angry. He spotted his clothes inside of the bag and Crowley immediately grabbed it the bag and moved to the other side of the room.

"Clothes, now. Crowley." Elias' face was hard with anger.

"Sorry, angel. You desperately need new clothes, and since you always make a fuss, I had to do it another way."

"But I like my clothes!" Elias shrieked, lunging at Crowley who danced away.

"Nope! Time to update your wardrobe." Crowley made sure to hide the bag behind him. Elias started glowing, his angelic powers causing a strong tingle of warning in Crowley.

"Oi, angel! Will you please relax? Here, I'll even let you keep one thing." Crowley had no intention of getting smited today over clothes. And if that involved Elias keeping one of his favored ugly clothes….then he could deal.

"My jacket? Hand over my jacket." Elias demanded, hand outstretched. Crowley resisted the urge to bang his head on the wall. Out of everything, he just had to chose the absolute worst one.

"Really Elias? Can't you pick something else?" Elias started glowing faintly again, his anger very apparent. Crowley sighed theatrically again and handed him his jacket from the bag.

"Thank you, my dear." Elias brightened and started nuzzling his old jacket.

"Please promise me you'll only wear it around the house. Otherwise I will risk my being to burn that thing." Elias glared again, and Crowley glared right back.

"I got you a ton of nicer things and you're going to enjoy it and actually wear them, right? Otherwise you're a terrible angel. You can't wear these tartan thing or whatever this material is. Its not fashionable, angel! No one will ever take you seriously if you wear this. But people might if you wear these!" Crowley held up one of the suits.

"But those are so uncomfortable!"

"They are not. Now wear them and be happy." Crowley turned to leave and then Elias' hand stopped on his shoulder.

"Crowley…..thank you, I suppose. But if you come anywhere near my jacket, I will make sure you suffer." Elias' face was dead serious. Crowley smirked anyways.

"I'm sure you will, darling. I must be off now. Sayanora!" Crowley left, knowing that Elias' would finally start wearing things from this decade. He was an angel like that.


	26. Zip Me with Carmen

**_Another Zip Me...honestly, Crowley. You're like this fashion designer now. Well, you did use to be a tailor...so I guess that's understandable. Carmen here is a close associate of Crowley's. She is a hunter who made a contract with Crowley...something about her working and so on. Can't really remember the details actually. Oh well!_**

* * *

**Leave an "Zip Me" in my ask, and I'll write a drabble about your character dressing mine, or the other way around [****_this can also be used for shutting them up as well, but feel free to specify_****.] **

* * *

Crowley sighed as he searched through Carmen's closet, yet again, for an outfit. She had first approached him with this offer of "choose clothes that I'll like for this party I'm crashing and you'll be happy." That was over an hour ago and Crowley was still running to her closet and back with stacks of clothes that she rejected. Well, walking. Or flying. Whichever he felt like. They had nearly gone through the entire closet and Crowley was getting frustrated.

Grabbing the almost naked woman, Crowley forced her sit down on the bed. He then looked over at the pile of clothes sitting on the bed and pulled out a strapless shirt with a matching skirt. Carmen moved to protest, but Crowley glared at her venomously and she cat back down, sulking.

Crowley carefully pulled the shirt over her head, arranging it properly. He then made Carmen stand and handed her the skirt which she put on with just a small sigh. Crowley looked pleased with himself.

Rummaning back in her closet, Crowley found a pair of small heels and handed them to Carmen.

"Oh, come on, hoss? Heels? Can't I wear boots instead?" Carmen protested, holding the heels like they were some vile disease.

"Boots won't match your outfit. We're breaking into a high society function, sweetheart. You need to look your best."

Carmen scowled, clearly not happy about having to do this. "Why can't you just go by yourself?"

"Because it would be more convincing if I had a date with me, now wouldn't it?" Crowley rolled his eyes and grabbed Carmen's hand after she reluctantly put on the shoes. "Now come on, we don't want to be late. It's bad taste."

The two vanished from the flat; the only sign they had every been in there the rather large pile of clothes that took up the entire bed.

* * *

_**((Is this good? I don't know. It seems….off a bit? I'm not sure. What do you think?)) **_


	27. Remember Me with Sam

**_Hey, look at that! A Supernatural character drabble! Whoo! I could have made this much more angsty...a lot of my little stories posted on Tumblr were like that today. BUT I SOMEHOW MANAGED NOT TOO! This calls for celebration! _**

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**Leave a "Remember Me" in my ask, and I'll write a drabble about my character trying to get yours to remember them ****_[be it from an accident, meeting them after years apart, feel free to specify_****.] **

* * *

Sam Winchester had been in an accident. Funnily enough, it wasn't from fighting the Leviathans or hunting monsters or even from Crowley. No, it just had to be the most humane thing to do. Car accident.

When Crowley first heard the news, he didn't believe it. Sam Winchester? The bloke who sacrificed himself to save the world once and was doing it again despite being mentally handicapped by a hallucination of Lucifer riding on his shoulders, fell asleep at the wheel and served into a semi. He was now in the nearby hospital, under the name Sammy Faust, a college dropout who had gotten lucky at a journalists office.

How did Crowley know all of this? His little tracker was still being used. Only it was on Sam, instead of on the car. He had to keep tabs on them somehow.

Crowley appeared into the hospital, and causally walked in, making sure not to be seen by anyone. He opened the door to Sam's room, and stopped short at the door way. The kid was awake and staring at the ceiling, wraps and bandages covering his limbs and chest and tubes attached everywhere. Crowley didn't realize how small the almost thirty year old looked when he wasn't standing up to dwarf everyone.

"Heya Sammy. How are you feeling?" Sam looked up at him, a confused expression on his face, head tilted to the side.

"Who are you?" His face was blank, too hopped up on pain medication to actually care about anything.

Crowley glared at Sam. "Oh, very funny Moose. What's the matter? Want me dead so badly that you don't want to remember my existence?"

Sam simply gave Crowley that dead pan stare. "Moose? I don't know what you are talking about." Crowley wheeled around and grabbed the clipboard that lay on the end of the hospital bed and quickly scanned it.

_Lacerations, fractures, concussion with possible amnesia?_ What?

"Hey, mister? What the hell are you even doing here?"

"The names Crowley, Moose." He automatically responded putting the clipboard down. A Sam with no memories? This could work to his advantage.

"So, what do you remember, kid?" Crowley pulled the chair closer to the bed and sat down backwards, resting his elbows on the back of the chair.

"That my name is Sam and I have a brother named Dean. And we hunted monsters. Or I used to. I went to Stanford and I don't remember how I ended up in England. And that's it."

So he didn't remember the demons, angels, whole apocalyptic deal? Which meant that he couldn't hallucinate the devil, because Sammy didn't remember him. Wasn't that perfect?

"I'm a sort of friend of yours and your brother. More to the point, I suppose, a co-worker."

"You're a hunter?" Sam's eyes grew wide and he turned his head away. "I hope you're not trying to pull me back into the business. I want nothing to do with it. I quit. Years ago. I want to live a normal life!"

Crowley rolled his eyes. "Hate to break it to you, kiddo. But you've been a hunter for a while now. Its been a few years since Standford." Crowley's hand accidentally brushed up against Sam's hair as the younger man turned his head.

"The first we're doing, is getting you a sodding haircut." Crowley muttered, moving his hand away from Sam. Crowley nearly jumped when Sam started screaming and ripping the I.V. tubes from his arms to jump Crowley.

"I AM NOT GETTING A FUCKING HAIRCUT, CROWLEY! YOU STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM MY HAIR!" Crowley quickly moved out of the way and backed into a corner of the room, Sam slowly advancing with murder in his eyes.

Crowley held his hands up in the universal surrender gesture and grinned. "If all it took to regain your memory, was to mention shortening your hair, that is rather pathetic, Jolly Green."

"Shut the fuck up Crowley and get out of here before I gank you!" Crowley laughed before he left.

He knew that the Winchesters were fun to keep around.


	28. BreakValue Me with Meg

**_So Meg is a half demon girl who I apparently babysat whenever she was staying in Hell when she was younger. I know right? What will people come up with next? In this, I have her father as a strong political figure, which would explain why Crowley can't exactly go against him because otherwise Crowley would just burn the bastard. _**

**_On a totally random note...I really want to RP with a Dick Roman..._**

* * *

**Leave a "Break Me" in my ask, and I will write an angsty drabble about our characters. **

**Leave a "Value Me" in my ask, and I'll write a drabble about my character telling yours how they feel about them. **

* * *

Crowley really hated to do this. He absolutely despised this job that Faunus had_requested_ of him. Grabbing his daughter from that University that she attended and basically making it so she never existed there.

Faunus was someone that he loathed, but if he was going to keep his throne, he had to play nice to the sodding bastard. Faunus had a lot of influence in Hell; having a child would do that, considering everyone wanted to believe that any child could be the anti-christ. Meg fortunately wasn't, but Faunus still held the prestige.

Crowley arrived at the university where Meg was currently at class. He only had to wait a few minutes before he saw her red hair signifying her location in the middle of all the students.

"Pardon me." Crowley plastered on a fake smile as he reached Meg who was chatting with some friends.

"Uncle C!" Meg laughed, absolutely surprised that he was here. "What brings you to my school? Do I get to see Growley?"

"Imp, you know how much I love you. Come on, we need to talk and then you can see Growley."

The two of them walked away to a secluded part of the campus, Crowley's face dropping.

"Meg," he started.

"What's going on, Uncle C?" She interrupted. "It's not like you to visit me during the school day, and I have another class I need to get to." Crowley sighed, hating this even more.

"I'm sorry, Imp. But you can't. Your father is demanding your return and I have someone watching me to make sure I don't mess up."

"What? No, you can't. Please don't! Just kill him or something!"

"Kiddo, you know I can't. Politics, and you are right in the middle of it. I'm sorry." Crowley grabbed her arm, making sure that Meg wouldn't bolt.

"No, no you're not. You hate me, maybe you've always hated me!" Meg's eyes welled up with tears and she tried to move her arm without any success.

"Darling, you're being dramatic. You know I do favor you, far more than your arsehole of a father. But I can't ignore him this time." He seemed all he could do was just sigh.

"NO! You just care about your stupid throne and your reputation. You wouldn't dare do the right thing! And that would be LEAVING ME ALONE!" With a hard yank, Meg managed to slip her hand free and immediately started running. Crowley flew right in front of her and placed a hit on the back of her neck. He grabbed her as she fell, unconscious, due to the hit on the pressure point. Without another word, he traveled into Hell and deposited his cargo into her room.

He nodded at Faunus as he walked past, hating himself even more for having to listen to the fucker. Crowley went back to his flat on Earth and got smashed, trying to forget the hurtful expression on Meg's face.


	29. Get Me with Raoul

**_More OC's! I role play with a lot of them, don't I? Or they just really want me to write for them. Raoul Lupin is a Frenchie, people! I don't actually know a lot about him yet. _**

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**Leave a "Get Me" in my ask, and I will write a drabble about my character saving yours. **

* * *

Crowley groaned as he felt the call for summoning start up, yet again. Seriously, how many people knew his sodding ritual? He made it a point to keep it out of the public, exactly for reasons like this.

He could never ignore the call. As more time went by, it got stronger and stronger until he arrived. That one time with the Winchester boys summoning him while he was trapped in Dick Roman's little electronic Devil's Trap was torture. If he ever felt suicidal, well, this was just one of many ways.

He turned up in some building in some unremarkable city, a group of about fifteen vampires circled around one human. Crowley rolled his eyes in exasperation. He wasn't a freaking bodyguard for someone!

Some of the vampires shifted in shock at seeing someone materialize out of nowhere enough for Crowley to see the man standing sheepishly inside the circle.

"You again?" Crowley could feel a headache coming along. Raoul Lupin looked a bit embarrassed as Crowley stared at him.

"I may have accidentally summoned you again." He said, holding up a necklace with a pentagram shaped amulet in his hand. Crowley sighed heavily.

"If I get you away from these bloody mosquitoes, will you at least make a deal with me, you sod?"

"Um….well, if it lets me live an extra ten years longer, I suppose that's….fine?" Crowley smirked, his idea of therapy already itching to get started.

"Glad to make your acquaintance then, Mr. Lupin." Crowley turned to the nearest vampire and thrust his knife into its throat before it could even move. Barely a minute later, all of the low-level vampires were laying before him, headless and bleeding. Crowley turned to Raoul, the smile still on his face.

"Let's go make that deal then."

* * *

_**((…I am completely uncertain as to how I feel about this. I sort of like it…but then I think that it needs a lot of work.))**_


	30. Death Scenes

_**So there was a prompt going around Tumblr saying "Post your reaction as I lay dying in your arms." Well, instead of just responding with tears and some stupid statement like, no I'm not actually dead, just playing a mind fuck with you, I decided to be angsty and sort of write a continuation/my side of the post. *dead***_

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_Gabriel looked down at the demon, "Where the hell did you learn to dodge?" he muttered quickly. Crowley wasn't looking too good, beyond repair. Gabriel raised a hand to exorcise the demon from his vessel, at least he would survive that way, but he wasn't sure Crowley was strong enough to make it. He sucked in a quick breath and his hand turned into a fist, "If you die on me, I'm going to kill you." He smiled lightly but bitterly._

_- Gabriel _

"Don't count me out just yet, angel." Crowley rasped, his throat aching as he talked. "I don't plan on going that easily." He wouldn't be able to move for a long while yet, and his healing abilities were shit at the moment. But he was determined to live and fuck it all if he went and snuffed it now. "Can you at least attempt to heal me, you prick?" Crowley muttered, closing his eyes and falling into a deep asleep against Gabriel's lap.

* * *

_Magic poked Crowley as he was bleeding horrendously, hoping that would make him feel better. "you better not die. I will cry if you die. So don't you dare." Everyone know's magic was trying to hide his feelings. He wasn't going to let the King of Hell see him cry. Nope. Not today. - Magicaanon_

Crowley couldn't move. He hurt all over and it wasn't just his meatsuit that was in pain. He could hear Magic speaking above him, but for the life (what was left of it anyways) of him, he couldn't understand a single word. His brain was fuzzy and everything was starting to go mute.

Crowley tried to move, to leave his vessel and maybe hide out in Hell, but he couldn't even do that. He was far to damaged. Far too weak.

Crowley wanted to snort in amusement. The irony was killing him. The King of Hell was too weak. And he had managed to defy Lucifer, go up against those Winchesters, manipulate them and live, angels and Leviathans, and he was dying now from a stupid anon.

He may have started laughing at some point; Crowley wasn't sure. But his chest started aching even more, and he could feel Magic desperately moving above him. His throat grew tight and then Crowley couldn't breath at all.

He tried gasping for air, but nothing happened. Crowley opened his eyes and saw a mop of blue hair right in front of him, worried eyes poking at him, begging him to stop and to live.

_Sorry Magic. Guess I'm not making it back from this one. _Crowley thought, before his vision went completely black.

* * *

_ "But how can you die? You're a demon, can't you - regenerate or somethin'?" She held onto that hope, because otherwise it meant that one of her best friends was gone forever. "What's the use of bein' king of Hell if - you - die?" - Donna Noble_

"Sorry, Donna. Demons don't regenerate." Crowley coughed weakly, blood spurting from his lips as he tried to sit up against Donna. No need to get her more covered in blood than she already was.

He was too wounded to properly move, and the use of copious amounts of Holy Water was slowly and painfully burning away his demonic essence. Donna fussed over him, her hands rubbing in painful circles across his crushed chest. But he didn't have it in him to tell her to stop.

"Come on, Crowls. Don't do this. You don't die!" Donna pleaded, her eyes starting to water.

"Can't help but hurt people, can I? Suppose I was a demon in that regard, at least." Crowley murmured, his eyesight growing dim and his breathing becoming shallower. He didn't know when it started, but he could feel teardrops landing on his face, washing away a bit of his blood still stuck on there.

"We…never got…..a chance…to…get those shoes." Crowley faintly said, barely breathing now.

"We'll get that chance, you idiot!" Donna cried, leaning forward to better pull Crowley into a hug.

Crowley never replied.

* * *

_If Crowley died in my arms? I would probably say something along the lines of. "Oh for fucks sake! You dimwitted douchebag, You sour tasting cunt, you writhing mass of puss and fecal matter! Don't dare do this, you pathetic excuse for a demon!-This isn't fair! (cue some light sobbing, you know watery eyes, quivering lips, the works) ITS NOT FAIR! - CrowleyOnMyShoulder _

Crowley could hear someone screaming faintly at him through the haze, but he couldn't tell who. All he knew was that they were completely swearing him out, belittling him for dying. He didn't blame them. He was doing the same to himself.

He wasn't supposed to die. His plans all ensured the highest chances of survival. But there was a snag.

He started caring again about people. Well, see where that got him? Laying in someone's arms, bleeding out and unable to escape the clutches of the oncoming Death.

"Come on, Crowley." A dry voice called out, irritatedly. Crowley immediately turned, and saw Death the Horseman standing nearby, his arms crossed, and an annoyed expression. "Could you take any longer, you fool?"

Crowley looked around and saw his body lying below him. He sighed. "Game's up, I suppose.

Good bye."

Below him, the figure started sobbing harder.

* * *

_"Come on Crowley! Stay with me. Don't do this, not now. Not when you're finally not a stupid prick. Come on." *you die* "Dammit Crowley! Why? Why'd you ever have to come out of Hell, why'd you ever have to make friends, why'd you ever have to change?" *breaks down because the rest of the team hasn't arrived yet* "Dammit Crowley," Greg whispered. - Greg Lestrade _

Crowley could feel himself slipping as he lay in Greg's arms. He wanted to tell him….so many things. Too many. But he couldn't make a sound, his throat crushed beyond repair. He tried to at least lift his hand, to touch Greg one last time, but he couldn't even do that. Crowley was trapped inside, unable to heal, unable to move, and unable to stop Greg from crying. The misery and anger grew in him as he felt his demonic essence start to be pulled away, dragged to be obliterated in the fires of Hell for good. He didn't want die; but more importantly, he didn't want to leave Greg like this. Not like this.

His vision turned completely black, and the next thing he knew was a searing hot burning before nothing.

* * *

_"This can't be happening. You can't die! How can a demon die? How can the king of hell die! This is not happening." Rose sobbed while clutching Crowley's lifeless body. She pulled him tight to her chest, willing him to wake up and yell surprise or something. She needed him to be alive, to start breathing again, to be around. "Wake up, please." She whispered before being completely paralyzed by sobs. - Rose Tyler _

Crowley stood in another meatsuit, close by to where Rose lay clutching his old body. The demon him, was weak, barely alive, and it wouldn't be long before the mind of this meatsuit would be able to fight back. He needed to recover and he needed to remain hidden…no one could know he managed to survive. There were some things the King, well, ex-King now, couldn't completely walk away from, and an angry hoard of angels was one of them.

Rose…he couldn't even say good bye to her, or let her know who he was. The angels would definitely be watching her.

Almost powerless and in a ton of pain, Crowley turned and walked away, mingling into the gathering crowd.

* * *

_**So what did you think? Some of them could probably use a bit more work, but overall I'm...happy I suppose. And depressed because of the FEELS! All of the italic paragraphs were copied and pasted from my ask box, done by other people. Their work belongs to them. **_


	31. Tell Me with Meg Masters

**Leave a "Tell Me" in my ask, and I'll write a drabble about my character confessing something to yours [****_be it a love confession, a secret, feel free to specify_****.] with Meg Masters**

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Crowley walked quickly through the hallways of hell, wondering if the news the demon had brought to him was true. Meg had been captured. Brutally and near death, and one of the ignorant demons had thought that they should inform Crowley before the whore finally died.

He arrived in the room where she was strapped up to a table. Apparently Meg had pissed off so many demons on her little stint upstairs, that most of them were calling for her blood. There was no way that she was getting out of this, not if the demons circling around with predatory smirks had anything to say about it.

"Its nice seeing you again, Meg." Crowley said loudly as he stepped into the room. All eyes turned to him, even the tired, but still defiant ones.

"Crowley." She sneered, blood dripping down her lips. "Still as miserable and pathetic as ever I see."

"And you're still whore. Although now a whore who's been tied up. Wasn't sure if you were in to this or not, but I think I can make an educated guess." Crowley replied smoothly.

"Oh, only with certain people, and I'm afraid you don't quite cut the bill." Crowley grinned and waved all of the other demons out of the room, which they did so but complaining and glaring the entire time.

"You want to know a secret, Meg?" Crowley walked until he was right over the bound demon. "I've always liked you best."

It was the first time he had seen Meg surprised and Crowley's grin grew wider.

"Don't get me wrong, sweetheart. I still loathe you. I just despise the others more."

Crowley walked out, passing by the demons who immediately jumped into the room with glee.

* * *

**((This was hard…kind of. I sort of had a vague notion of what I was doing with this…but that's about it.))**


	32. Enamor Me with Sally Donavan

**Leave a "Enamor Me" in my ask, and I will write a fluffy drabble about my character trying to woo yours [****_be it out of the blue/Valentines Day,feel free to specify_****.]**

**((Why do you people enjoy torturing me by making me write fluffy, romantic things?))**

* * *

Crowley grinned as he dropped the card into the mailbox in front of the apartment building he was standing in front of. He had discretely been watching the place for the last few days, figuring out the patterns and habits of the particular inhabitant that he had decided to play with.

For someone who worked in the dangerous division of homicide, Sally Donavan was very punctual about her schedule. In about a minute, she would pull up in her car and check her mail. Then she would go inside and water the plants (Crowley was surprised by that as well) that she had on her window before fixing herself dinner.

Speak of the devil, or really just really accurate timing, Sally's car zoomed around the corner and into her driveway. Crowley turned himself invisible and waited for Sally to be her predictable, boring self. (Although at that party, she really wasn't either of those things.) Sally opened her mailbox, and pulled out a letter that was covered in sparkles and painted a very garnish pink color. Even Crowley had problems looking at it when he was writing inside.

_Dear Sally, _

_You are probably wondering who would bother writing to you in this fabulous looking card and the answer isn't too far away. This card is to confess that I have always admired you and your bitchiness, coldness and amusing disregard for the general stupidity of humanity. _

_We should collapse on silk sheets, legs entwined with the other, hands grasping and clutching, and just the most delightful sounds echoing around us. _

_What do you think of that Eagle Eyes? _

_Happy April Fools Day!_

Crowley watched with delight as Sally's face started to turn red and had to bite his lip to keep himself from laughing out loud. "CROWLEY!" She shrieked, tearing up the card into little pieces, and apparently trying to glare it into setting itself on fire.

"I AM GOING TO KILL YOU, YOU LITTLE BASTARD!" Crowley just laughed and let himself appear for a second before flying away to safety, the image of Sally's murderous face keeping him chuckling for the rest of the night.

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**((What is fluff? I can't do fluffy things and stuff. WHY DO YOU PEOPLE DO THIS TO ME?))**


	33. Join Me with Gabriel

_angelic-trickster __**sent:**__ I would totally write Drink me but we do that all the time so, Join me._

_Glad to see that you want to do something different now. _

**Leave a "Join Me" in my ask, and I'll write a drabble about my character giving your character an offer [****_be it a proposal for an alliance, asking them to join them in an activity (you can get dirty if you want), feel free to specify._****] **

* * *

Crowley was cooking when Gabriel popped in unexpectedly. Well, it would have been unexpected if the archangel turned trickster hadn't been doing this for years. By this point, Crowley could admit to himself that Gabriel not showing up at least once a week meant the end of the world or that shark week was on. He never did understand why Gabby was so addicted to that marathon of shark documentaries.

"Crowls! I'm home!" the archangel sang, half dancing into the kitchen.

"This isn't your bloody home, Sugar Queen." Crowley replied from near the stove, pulling out the creme brûlée from the oven. "And no, you are not allowed to touch this yet."

Gabriel pouted, his eyes growing wide, trying to make himself look as miserable and pathetic as possible. "But, Crowley…" he whined, his hands reaching out trying to snag a piece of the dessert.

Crowley knocked his hands away, glaring half heartedly. Honestly, this happened every single damm time Gabriel came over when he cooked. "Sorry, Trickster. Hands off."

Gabriel's eyes started watering, and Crowley rolled his eyes, internally wondering how a child such as Gabriel could be one of the strongest creatures to roam the Earth and one of the very few beings to talk to the Almighty Himself.

"Let's a make deal, Gabby." Crowley said suddenly. "You want some of the sweets, you have to earn it. Start cleaning. By hand." Gabriel's mouth fell open.

"By-by hand?! No snappy and its done? Come on, Crowley! Don't be so mean!"

"Sorry, mate. Clean and we can share it. Don't, and I get to eat the entire thing. Take it or leave it." Crowley crossed his arms, slightly wincing as the apron he was wearing lowered his intimidation stance. Whatever.

"You're going to get fat if you eat all of that." Gabriel tried.

"Demon, love. And you're one to talk with all of that sugar you intake on a hourly basis."

Gabriel pouted for a few minutes longer before throwing his hands up dramatically.

"Alright, fine! I'll clean your damm kitchen!" He grabbed a sponge from the sink and started wiping the counter, and Crowley smirked, putting the creme brûlée on the dinning table, snapping up utensils and a drink for the both of them. Gabriel joined him a few minutes later, his scowl lightening up at the sight of his portion of the creme brûlée sitting on his plate.

Thus, that was how Crowley got Gabriel to start helping him around the kitchen every time he came over. The demon would cook, the archangel would clean up, and then two would enjoy a somewhat pleasant dinner with each other. Somewhat being the relative word since Gabriel was still very much a trickster even while eating.

"GABRIEL!"

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**((Not sure what this is, but hey! Its fluffy and there's cooking. BE HAPPY!)) **


	34. Remember Me with Bobby

**Leave a "Remember Me" in my ask, and I'll write a drabble about my character trying to get yours to remember them ****_[be it from an accident, meeting them after years apart, feel free to specify_****.] with Bobby Singer **

* * *

When Crowley heard about Bobby's death from the supernatural grapevine, he saw red. Regardless if the human hated him or not, Crowley liked the snarky, down to earth hunter, and Crowley was extremely possessive of things he liked. Robert Singer ended up being one of them.

It wasn't easy bringing back someone who had already moved on. Usually, Crowley only had to deal with the souls who had gone to hell; reaching into the void that was absolute death was something he had never done before.

But he was the King of Hell. If anyone was able to pull a measly soul from there, it would be him.

Sweat glistened on his forehead as the ritual he was doing started drawing on all of his power. After this whole thing was over, Crowley was going to be sleeping for days to recover.

"_Peto a morte producere, vacuo hirundo vorat, consumit omnia et temporum finem._" he chanted, feeding the altar in front of him more of his power. He could feel a metaphorical sense of himself being flung into a darkness that continuously pulled at him, influencing him to stay and never leave its home of nothingness, to give up on his quest, and just _rest_ and it took all of Crowley's strength to not be swept up by the current.

"Robert better appreciate what I'm doing for his little arse." Crowley muttered, his hands both shaking and reaching out at the same time. Bollocks, this two-self thing was _confusing_. His not-real self finally found the glowing body of Singer, looking up at him, unable to speak because the Void was nothing. There was no sound here. Crowley grabbed the older hunter's hands and _pulled_, moving as fast as he could back into the diminishing light that was his ticket home behind him. The demon could feel shadowy tendrils trying to grasp him and keep him inside the Void. If Crowley was possessive, the Void was about fifty times more. It didn't like being denied its things, and it especially didn't like that an item that had been inside of it for almost two months was leaving. Crowley could imagine the growls that the Void would be making if it could. Crowley gasped as he felt himself slam into him physical self, falling to his knees and coughing. Future note, never do that agin. Far too risky.

He looked to his right and saw the body of Bobby Singer that he managed to procure, another difficult feat, start to move. It had worked. Crowley let out a sigh, partly from relief and also from glee that his experimentation worked.

He staggered over to the prone from, hell he needed to just sit and relax, but no. He had to see if everything was in place, if everything worked, and if he hadn't made a miscalculation. He seemed physically fine. The body was exactly as he remembered it: scruffy and grizzly with that hint of a country mechanic. Crowley started shaking the man.

"Bobby Singer. Robert! No need to be sleeping on my account, Princess!" Crowley half shouted into the man's ear. Instantly, Bobby took in a startled gasp, turned over onto his elbows and started dry heaving. Crowley grabbed the bucket that he kept nearby and thrust it underneath the recently resurrected hunter. Just in time to, if the splattering sound was any indication.

"You should be thankful, Bobby. And feel lucky that I like you so much." Crowley smirked, lightly patting his back. Bobby looked up at him, his eyes clouded over from exhaustion (something that Crowley was sure he was mirroring) a confused expression on his face.

"Wha- what the hell?"

"What, no thank you, Robert? I'm hurt." Crowley rolled his eyes. Bring back them from the dead and still no thanks going around. Typical.

"Who the hell are you?" Bobby probably would have pulled out a gun if he had one, or moved as far away as possible, if he was able to. "Where am I, and Balls!"

"Memory loss? This is interesting." Crowley muttered. "Crowley, demon, King of Hell, healed your legs, ringing any bells for you, Singer?"

"Fuck no! I ain't got a clue what ya're on about!" Crowley sighed and leaned forward to initiate a kiss with the hunter. Usually he didn't do double takes. Oh well.

"Why the shitting hell did ya have to use tongue, ya idgit?!" Bobby shouted.

"Seemed like the easiest way to solve your little noggin problem. Kisses are said to make everything better, aren't they?" Crowley smirked. "I didn't get a chance to take a picture this time though."

"Good." Bobby growled, struggling to stand. Crowley just watched him. "You should probably just lay down. And I might join you."

"What, exhausted already, ya pansy?"

"Yes, actually. Pulling you out wasn't so easy this time. Now shut up, sit back down, and for god's sake, don't snore!" Crowley tossed a pillow and blanket that he had kept stored in the room, just in case, and pulled out a set of his own, finally getting a chance to sit down.

He saw Bobby from the corner of his eye pull the blanket over his head; his exhaustion apparently clouding his hunter judgement of letting down his guard in front of a supernatural creature. His eyes closed before he could see anything else.

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**Oh hey, look at this. An almost Crobby fic. Whoo! Bobby is pretty fun; never realized before. Maybe I should do him more often. Aka, KATE! SEND ME SOME MORE DRABBLES!**


	35. Protect Me with Lestrade

**This is with Lestrade who is Crowley's boyfriend/lover in our rp group. **

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**Protect : My character keeps yours safe from harm. **

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Crowley pulled Lestrade along as bullets ricocheted beside them. Lestrade's eyes were glassy, and a trickle of blood ran down the side of his head. Concussion most likely, Crowley thought as he ran along. Goddammit.

A couple of hunters decided to get cocky and track down the demon activity in the area. Really it was something that Crowley and Lestrade were looking into as well (Crowley had not authorized any demon attacks over here) when the hunters had shown up. Apparently one of them had recognized him as a demon and simply thought that Lestrade who was standing next to him, was one as well. Crowley heard the click of the safety of a gun being unlocked and shoved Lestrade to the side, his arm stinging from the bite of the bullet that had been doused in holy water. Lestrade's head had hit the wall hard, and was bleeding when he managed to stand. Crowley grabbed Lestrade's arm and teleported outside of the building. Carrying another person with him wasn't easy, especially if said person was concussed. The last thing Crowley wanted to do was to give Lestrade some sort of brain damage.

So now the two of them were running, Crowley hoping to find someplace to hide Lestrade while he took care of the fragging hunters, but he could not leave Lestrade out in the open with nothing to protect him from bullets.

"Bollocks." Crowley muttered angrily as he saw that there were more hunters then he had originally thought. Seems that the little shits were getting a bit smarter as time went on. No less than six or seven of them had been waiting outside, and now all of them were closing in from all sides, with the original hunters that had found them inside the building coming up from behind them.

As Crowley heard the sounds of guns being cocked, he did the only thing anyone would do.

Flee. Hu hugged Lestrade close to him, feeling the bite of the bullets as he managed to fly barely three hundred feet away into a nearby section of trees. He could feel blood running down his back, the holy water regressing his healing abilities to those of a human.

Well, he hadn't had a challenge in a while.

He carefully dropped Lestrade into the foliage, whispering a "Stay here." to him. Lestrade shook his head slowly, mouthing no. Crowley just smirked.

"Don't underestimate me, Inspecter." He patted Lestrade's head and flew back into the area where the hunters had displaced, spreading around trying to locate him.

"Oi, gits!" Crowley called, watching with a sadistic sense of glee as the entire group turned at once to look at him, their guns swinging around, aiming at him. Crowley ignored the stinging of the open wounds against the rushing wind as he moved, pulling a knife from his pocket and slashing at his first victim's throat. He felt more bullets strike his legs and back, but he was far to enraged to feel the pain. Crowley spun around with the dying man in his arms, and used him as a meat shield. He wasn't too surprised when the hunters continued shooting, all of the bullets hitting their partner, in hopes to go through and wound the demon behind him.

One of the hunters started chanting in Latin, and Crowley felt an annoying pull against his demonic essence. He growled and threw the corpse towards the man's direction sprinting behind it and stabbing the irritating fly. He snarled and turned to look at the rest of the hunters who were advancing, loading up more holy water bullets and muttering in Latin. Crowley had gotten bored with them.

With a snap of his fingers, a flame ignited onto his fingertip. With a glare and a wave of his hand, Crowley sent the flame to band of hunters, the agonizing screams and shrieks soothing the searing heat he could feel against his skin. He kept the flame steady for a few minutes longer before snuffing it out, seeing that all of the bodies had turned into nothing but ashes. He sneered and walked back towards where Lestrade was hopefully still waiting, feeling the adrenaline rush out of him as the rage that fueled him cooled. All of the pain from the bullets started making themselves known, and Crowley bit his lip as he felt the holy water sear against muscle and bone. He didn't stop walking until he found Lestrade, who had dozed off, his concussion making it impossible for him stay awake.

Crowley dropped down like a bag of stones next to the detective-inspector, unable to stand any longer. He shook Lestrade, hoping he would wake up so they could attempt to leave.

It took a few good long shakes and a lot of calling out, but finally Lestrade blinked his eyes open, pupils slightly dilated.

"Crowley?" He mumbled. "You're bleeding." Crowley looked down at his legs, seeing a few small streaks of blood.

"It's nothing. I just need to wake up so we can start moving to the car." Lestrade grunted and slowly moved upwards using the tree behind as support. With a great force of will, Crowley also stood, his legs trembling slightly. Holy water seriously sucked.

Together, the two walked, well Crowley limped, slowly towards the car, both sighing in relief as it came into sight. Crowley moved over to the driver's side, deftly grabbing the keys from Lestrade's pocket.

"Hey, let me drive! You're bloody bleeding all over the place!"

"You have a concussion, macho man. Medically, you are not allowed to drive." Crowley lightly pushed the now gaping man to other side of the car, sitting inside the car and turning on the engine.

Lestrade looked miffed as he sat next to him, clearly not happy about having Crowley drive his car.

It was barely ten minutes on the road when Lestrade dozed off again and Crowley grinned and pulled out his phone to take a picture. Hell if it was against the law and he technically had a cop in the vehicle.

Crowley pulled into Lestrade's driveway, exhausted and barely awake. Instead of getting out of the car, he just curled up in the seat, feeling his mind already start to wander into the depths of sleep.

They could move later, he was comfortable.

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**((Why can't I ever do endings? Gah!)) **

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**_Bonus! A quick snippet of another drabble! Which is really short, but whatever. _**

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**• Run! : My character is chasing your character( or vise versa) OR both characters are being chased by _. ( fill in the blank ) **

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Crowley was laughing as he ran out of the Singer Autoshop, dodging the salt rock bullets with ease. Bobby had finally figured out that Crowley had made their little kiss public over the internet and decided that salt all over Crowley's suit was a suitable punishment.

He could hear Bobby yelling in the background, and the sound of the gun having more rounds being pumped in.

"I suppose this is my cue to dash, isn't it, darling?" Crowley called from a good distance away from the porch. "Hopefully next time you'll have better manners, Robert dear!" Crowley vanished to the curses coming out of Bobby's mouth. He should remember some of those; they were rather creative.

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**((Short, but enjoy!))**


	36. Heal Me with Bobby

**_So this little group here is sort of special. Sam has a kid (adopted) named Johnny who Bobby regularly watches over. Beforehand, Bobby was kidnapped by a demon, which is where his wound came from. Let me know if you have any other questions!_**

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**• Heal : My character will tend to your character's wounds, or be at their side when they're sick. **

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"I told you, Robert." Crowley sighed as he placed Bobby onto his bed in the back room. "You really need to listen to me more often."

"Shut up, idgit!" Bobby managed to snarl out from in between the gasps of pain. Crowley went to the cabinet where he had packed in the first aid kit; coming over to Singer's residence as often as he was doing meant it was beyond time to add in some of his own things. Like a first aid kit which Bobby conveniently forgot to use when he should, especially with a wound like the one that he had.

And now he had managed to pull out the stitches in his side.

"You're lucky the boys had Johnny with them for a ride in that little car of theirs. I doubt a toddler would have been happy seeing all of this blood on the ground."

"It ain't that much! Let me- BALLS!" Crowley pushed the hunter back down on the bed, the entire kit in hand.

"Quit moving! You are already bleeding out far more than you should!" the demon hissed, grabbing a towel and pressing it against Bobby's side. "You are such a sodding moron! I thought you out of anyone here would know when to take a break!"

Crowley guided Bobby's hand to the towel, forcing him to press it into his side, as he unpacked the gauze, antiseptic, and wraps, as well as a roll of thread and a needle. Placing everything in a place where he could easily reach it by sitting near Bobby, Crowley rolled his sleeves up and got to work.

"What are you doing, demon?" Bobby snarled, his forehead perspiring with sweat from the pain.

"Shut up, grizzly. I'm working."

"Working? You're going to stab me!"

"Bloody hell yes I am going to be stabbing you. I'm sodding fixing you up, you twat!"

Bobby looked ready to snap back a reply until Crowley glared at him. Pouring the antiseptic onto the gauze, he removed the towel from the wound, and started cleaning it.

"Hold still now, Robert." He murmured, threading the needle with the end of the string. "It may sting a bit."

"Yeah, like the freaking medicine you just hosed me down with didn't!"

"Bobby Singer, I am trying to make sure you don't bleed out in your bed. Now will you please shut up, and hold still, so I can finish this?"

Crowley then started re-stitching the wound closed, focusing intently on moving the needle back and forth and ignoring the slight tremors that the old hunter was making. It seemed to take forever until he was snipping the thread off and pulling the bandages around Bobby's waist.

"You better appreciate what I'm doing for you, you idiot." Crowley sighed as he taped the end of the bandage.

Bobby sat on the bed, breathing heavily. "You've done this before?" Crowley shrugged.

"It's a bit easier to do it on someone else. Holy Water and salt tend to slow down healing for future references." Crowley started cleaning up, his hands steady as he used a wet cloth to mop up the blood stains. He would need to go through the house in a few minutes to clean any other bloodstains.

"Did you get caught by hunters or something?"

"Tell me about Edwin and I'll tell you." Crowley never looked up from his working hands.

It was a few minutes later, when Crowley had just finished cleaning up the last of the stains when they heard the sound of a door opening.

"Bollocks." Crowley cursed, hearing the voices of the three other members of the household change from jovial to worried in a span of a few seconds.

"Bobby! Bobby!" they could hear Dean running into the room, obviously following the blood trail that had been left behind when getting Bobby into his room.

Crowley sighed and moved over to help Bobby stand. Struck by a sudden impulse, he leaned forward and pulled Bobby into a kiss before pulling him up to his feet, holding him steady so the hunter wouldn't fall. They had barely made it two steps before the door was slammed open and the older Winchester stood in the doorway, seeing the medical kit on the dresser and how Crowley was practically carrying the injured man.

"What happened?" he said as he moved to help hold some of the weight.

"His wound reopened." Crowley said curtly. Dean nodded and the two walked together to the living room to put Bobby on the couch where Johnny and Sam were waiting.

Talk about some sort of dysfunctional family thing. Crowley thought, wryly.

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**((Stupid ending, but I don't care! haha, its out!))**


	37. Offer Me with John Watson

**Leave a "Offer Me" in my ask, and I'll write a drabble about my character giving yours a gift. With John Watson**

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Crowley popped up on Baker Street, a large wrapped parcel in his hands. He supposed it was time to introduce himself to the great and intuitive Sherlock Holmes, and his little sidekick John Watson and what better way to do so than bearing a gift in hand?

Crowley knocked politely on the door, which was opened several moments later by an kind looking elderly woman.

"Evening, ma'am. I'm here for Mr. Holmes and Watson?" Crowley's English accent emphasized, he supposed it had something to do with being back in good old London, rather than the states.

"Oh of course, come in! I'm Mrs. Hudson, the landlady. Not a housekeeper, as those two boys seem to think I am." The lady led him through the building, heading up a flight of stairs. "I'm afraid that Sherlock isn't in right now, I'm not actually sure where he is. Maybe John will know. John!" She called through the door, knocking against the wood. "You've got a visitor!"

The door to 221B at Baker Street opened, and a man about Crowley's height opened the door, suspiciously eyeing the demon at his doorstep.

"I'll leave you two dears alone now. Do have fun!" Mrs. Hudson headed back down the stairs, dithering all the while.

"So, who are you?" John asked, his face relaxed but his posture tense.

"Crowley, pleasure. I'm just here to drop off a gift basket of a sorts."

"Of sorts?"

"Well, an acquaintance of mine wanted to give something to you as a present. But he had to go out of town, so asked me if I could help. There's a note inside for you from him."

Crowley handed the parcel to John, giving a small smile.

"I do hope we can talk more in the future. Unfortunately I have to run, but here's my cell if you ever feel like catching a bite or something." John nodded, holding the package carefully as if it were a bomb ready to blow. The demon would have snorted if it wouldn't have looked terrible. Honestly, the only things inside was a basket of baked goods, courtesy of Crowley's kitchen, some wine, and some fruit. Nothing special.

The only thing that would most likely cause the consulting detective and his blogger a cause to worry would be the note.

Crowley exited out of the building and pulled out his phone, pressing a button and putting the cell to his ear.

"He-llo?!" A voice practically sang into his ear.

"Jimbo. Your little deed is done" Crowley said cheerfully into the phone. He heard the person on the other end say something about flaying and the demon just rolled his eyes.

"Really, Jimmy. You should know by now that your threats just make me disappointed, since they don't ever come true."

"Yes, yes. Watson got the package and your note. Honestly, next time you want a favor, try to make a bit more interesting, yes?" Crowley snapped his phone closed.

Psychopaths. You could always count on them to be predictable. Moriarty included.


	38. Death with Bobby

_**Death -Bobby**_

**• Death : My character's reaction to your character dying.**

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Crowley been standing by his hospital bed for hours now. Those Winchester brats couldn't see him, and that's exactly how he wanted it. Bobby was literally at death's door; he could see the reaper standing patiently at the bedside, a twitch in its eye the only sign of his annoyance. Well, Crowley would be annoyed as well if he had to wait around for all these stubborn people all the time.

But he wasn't here to sympathize with a sodding reaper. He was here to make a deal.

Silently, he strolled towards the reaper, who was looking decidedly more murderous than just a few minutes ago. Bobby must be giving it hell trying to outrun it. Crowley could barely contain his smirk. Figured that the old grizzly would still be fighting to his dying breath.

Crowley tapped the reaper's shoulder and the agent of death wheeled around, its eyes flashing with irritation.

"Greetings, darling." Crowley gave a smile. "Fancy a quick chat?" It schooled its features into an impassive gaze, its eyes staring straight through him, seeing him for what he really was.

"You are Crowley. King of Hell, correct?" The reaper didn't need his confirmation, so Crowley never bothered to acknowledge it. "What is it that you want? I'm busy."

"Yes, you're busy standing around, being made into an idiot by a senile old man. Sounds cheery."

"He will break sooner or later. Everyone does."

"Yes, but I'm sure you have something else better to do than to waste your time here." The reaper fixed Crowley with an inquisitive look.

"I always have something to do, now don't I? But, what I am curious about, is why you seem to want me to leave this particular human alone." Crowley simply shrugged.

"Its not that I want him alive, I feel like he would be much better dead, honestly. But he keeps the Winchesters in line. And right now, that's my number one priority."

"You lie. You have a fondness for this human, don't you?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about." Crowley said breezily. "So, why don't you run off and move on. I still have a use for this mud monkey, Reaper."

An ugly look came over the reaper's features. "No. I don't care for whatever your whims may be, but death is calling for this human, and there will be no escaping it for him."

"No? You do realize I could force you. Didn't that happen to one of your co-workers by Azazel a few years back? What did she call herself, Tessa, wasn't it?" Crowley smiled god-naturedly. "Of course, you want to skip all of that little unfavorable business, I'm all for that as well."

If looks could kill, Crowley would have been a pile of ashes right now. "Don't think that Death will not hear about this." The reaper hissed, its eyes flashing dangerously.

"So tell your little daddy, Reaper. I've been fancying a chat with the bloke anyways." The reaper gave one last glare before vanishing and Crowley gave an inaudible sigh of relief.

Well, there was still work to be done. The reaper may have not been here to claim Robert's soul, but that didn't mean that the hunter couldn't die regardless and become a ghost instead. Crowley sighed again and rolled his sleeves up.

He hadn't used this power in a very, very long time. Concentrating, Crowley focused intently on controlling the energy being released from his very self; he had never been good with healing.

It felt like hours later by the time Crowley had lowered the pressure in Bobby's brain, allowing oxygen to properly flow in through the veins. Backing away from the bed, Crowley slumped against the wall, feeling absolutely drained. It was so much easier healing people if done with a deal powering it. Not to mention less taxing.

The King of Hell stayed sitting there until the doctors came in for another check up and proclaimed the man to be out of the critical range and healing just fine. Crowley wished he could take a picture of the Winchester's expressions of absolute joy.

He left as soon as Bobby's eyes started opening, ignoring how they seemed to linger in his general direction a bit longer than what was necessary.

He would never know that Crowley had helped them, but he was fine with that. Couldn't be seen going soft, now could he?

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**((I really wanted to add Cas in this…..but then I remembered that he was still considered to be dead at this point…..damm.))**


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